Sometimes a Rainbow
by p y n q u e
Summary: Life is like a rainbow. You need both the sun and the rain to make its colors appear. / One-shots based on colors. Various pairings. Previously titled "Lunar Rainbow." Discontinued.
1. Red Lipstick

**First in a collection of one-shots based on colors.**

**If you want to request a color and pairing or singular cat, go ahead. I'm completely and totally open to incest, slash, and femslash. Warnings for such will be given accordingly. I'm going in a random order, not rainbow.  
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**Human elements.

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"_Beauty, to me, is about being comfortable in your own skin. That, or a kick-ass red lipstick."_

_-Gwyneth Paltrow_

When she was little, Bombalurina would go through her mother's makeup when she left to work and smear it all over her face—to her, it was attractive, but that was really all it looked like. Purple lipstick daubed on her mouth, sticking in the white fur on her face. Bright blue nail polish covered the majority of the tips of her fingers, and eye shadow stuck to her eyelashes. Blush covered her nose, forehead, cheeks, and chin. She wouldn't touch the mascara, because she didn't really know what it was. Momma didn't really like it when Bombalurina wasted her makeup, though—it was designer stuff. She needed it, needed to look good for her clients.

Sometimes, though, mom had a bad night and came home early. Demeter would giggle at Bombalurina's misfortune, the red kit trying to get the stuff off with hot water and a white towel. Bombalurina would soon realize some makeup was supposed to last for long periods of time. The Glamour Cat would stare at Bombalurina with narrowed eyes—lips puffy from rubbing, faded lipstick covering the area around her mouth, a stained towel in her tiny, nail polish covered fingers (Bombalurina didn't now how to get nail polish off, and she couldn't pick off all of it in two minutes). And for the rest of the night, Bombalurina would be seated on the edge of the porcelain bathtub, tears in her eyes, as Grizabella-mommy-dearest washed her face clean with a scalding water-soaked towel. An especially scratchy one.

When she became a tween, Bombalurina asked if she could have her own makeup. It annoyed her that Demeter, who had actually been offered makeup by their mother, didn't wear any at all and still looked gorgeous, while Bombalurina was stuck with a "plain," unpainted face. It took weeks of whining, but eventually the red queen won the battle.

And that was two months before mom left.

/

There was no tearful goodbye. Just kisses on the cheek and unanswered questions, and finally the click of the back door. Bombalurina woke to not the smell of a cheap McDonald's breakfast, but to the faint sound of Demeter crying in the bed next to hers and the faint like of her lamp.

"Momma's gone," Demeter said when Bombalurina sat next to her, a wrinkled letter in her shaking hands. In a jerky movement, Bombalurina tore the note out of Demeter's hands, scraping yellow nail polish off of her thumb with her teeth.

Grizabella had pretty handwriting. Half cursive, half print. I's dotted with dashes, not dots, and Y's with fancy loops. And in that special handwriting, Grizabella wrote,

_Dear Demeter&Bombalurina,_

_Mommy has a lot of stuff she needs to take care of. I'm just so tired._

_I love you girls more than anything. I'm just a crappy mom._

_Auntie Jenny will pick you up from school. Hope she's not mad._

_So much love,_

_Momma._

Bombalurina and Demeter skipped school that day.

/

It was all about them now. Demeter and Bombalurina against the world. They'd survive no matter what it took. They ran away, Bombalurina's heels clicking against the pavement. They can't find a place to say, so they camp out in an alley, and Bombalurina finds herself glad that it's summer.

That night, when Demeter is finally sleeping, Bombalurina grabs her purse with trembling hands and scampers away. They needed money. They needed a home. (If she had a cell phone, Bombalurina would have thirty voice mails.)

She puts on a tiny, sparkly dress she stole from her mom's still-full closet and walks the street nonchalantly. She doesn't care that she's still a virgin. She doesn't care that she's barely fourteen. She's tall and she's pretty and she's desperate.

She chokes back tears as a car stops next to her.

/

When Demeter finds out, her punch leaves a bruise on Bombalurina's cheek.

/

Bombalurina told her not to get involved, but she did. The red queen didn't realize Demeter was faking sleep when she got up and left their nook. She didn't realize her client would react that way when she broke them up. She didn't know if she was supposed to be angered or relieved when Demeter pulled took her by the wrist and dragged her out of the car.

She decided she'd be thankful. She ignored that they never went back to get their stuff from the alley, and that her last sentimental possession of her mother's was a ring.

"I can't believe you, Bombalurina." Said the gold queen, the two sitting in a booth at some dive, greasy French fries in the middle of the table.

"What else was I supposed to do, Demeter?" Bombalurina hissed, grabbing the bottle of ketchup.

"Get an actual job, that's what!" Bombalurina squeezes the ketchup bottle so hard that the poor French fries drown in the condiment.

"What job could I get, Dem?" She asks, ignoring the street urchins listening to their every word. "I'm fucking _sixteen!_"

The two are quiet, tears silently streaming down Bombalurina's face.

/

On a clammy August night, Munkustrap, Alonzo, and the Rum Tum Tugger see the two on the street. Bombalurina wants to run and hide—she can't look the Tugger in the face—but Demeter runs into Munkustrap's arms, burying her face in his chest.

"Where _were _you two?" asks the Tugger, stepping towards Bombalurina. She wants to crawl into a hole, forget what she did to survive, or at least live the way a teenager is supposed to (and pray she doesn't have any diseases).

"A lot of places," Bombalurina tries to joke, but her voice cracks.

No one asks any more questions, but the air is tense, and Bombalurina's hand itches to hold the Tugger's.

/

When she's _old enough _(she's still not mated even if Demeter is, and she has no kids, and she doesn't totally mind because "married" is just another way to say "bound"), Bombalurina has almost forgotten about her past. But it's hard to forget when the very embodiment of all your bad memories comes back.

How _dare _she sing about her days in the sun.

How _dare _she ask for forgiveness.

Bombalurina wants to punch her so bad. She almost feels guilty when the other cats accept her and she just stays back, black nails digging into her palms, so she eventually steps forward, and taps her mother's hand so as not to contract whatever disease caused her to leave her innocent daughters on their own.

Afterwards, she ignores her mother like the plague. She puts on her jacket and her highest heels, smears on a fresh coat of bright red lip stick (with shine) and drinks her brains out.

She knows she was a bad girl because she wakes up in a hotel room, alone, and naked.

/

When she's a little older, Bombalurina gives birth to the Rum Tum Tugger's child. It's not a little girl, it's a little maned boy that they name Drell.

She can see the regret in the Tugger's eyes as she helps their kitten take his first few steps, waddling over to a brightly wrapped Christmas present. She can see the way he covers it up when Drell goes over to him, happily thrusting a tiny little box into his crotch. Everyone laughs when the Maine coon keels over, and Bombalurina decides that maybe marriage isn't just a prison.

/

She dies at the grand old age of thirty-six.

It's funny because when she got hit, the girl driving was putting on lipstick.

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**Yay! Happy ending, right?**

…**Why do I kill my favorite characters?**

**I really don't know what this had to do with red besides some obvious things.**


	2. Black Eyes

**a/n: **I almost listened to my reviewers.

But then these poet people came to my school, and they had us write something based on this proverb, and I started writing fanfiction.

I read it aloud. XD Good thing I hadn't said their names… (they made me read it even though it wasn't finished…'cos I'm "promising")

**Warnings: **abuse. sexual themes. Explanations at the end.

**Inspired by **rawrrkitty's _**Mine **_**(though it doesn't really reflect it much...).

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**

"_Blue eyes say, Love me or I die; black eyes say, Love me or I kill thee."_

_-Spanish Proverb_

Sometimes he hits her.

He leaves bruises and scars, makes her eyes glisten with icicle tears. But she won't cry, oh no, if she does he'll hit her again. _Harder_. She screams apologies, but he yells louder. She sits there and takes it, because that's what a _good girl _does, and she has to be a good girl, or he'll leave. And he can't leave. She needs him.

_i need you._

On really bad nights (at least for her) he comes home drunk or high or something like that. She's in bed by then (_Please come home, Electra!_), and she knows exactly what's going to happen when she feels the bed sink under him. She pretends she's sleeping when his hands roam, and he asks her why she's let herself fall so hard, and all she can answer with is a gag when he pulls on her night gown. (And even though she doesn't want it, it feels good.)

Sometimes his eyes are warm and gentle and blue like the sky. That's only on good days, though, she knows. And good days are rare. She knows he's under _so much pressure _(she's reminded every night) and he needs an outlet. She'll gladly be that outlet because she loves him, and she'll be by his side until he tells her to leave, and that won't happen, because no one loves him as much as she does.

_we can escape it all._

One night he comes home and he's not sparkling, and she knows he's had a bad day. She's scared but she won't show it, she braces herself and asks how his day was, even though she knows the answer—a fist to the face.

That's what she gets, and the pain blooms across her face from her nose and she knows it's broken. She stifles a scream and cups her tiny paws around her nose—it _hurts_, and she wants to cry so bad. If she blinks the tears will fall, so she tries _so hard _not to close her eyes.

_come with me, electra!_

"I'm sorry," she chokes out, trying not to look at him. It's funny because she remembers all the promise they had and she wonders why this is happening if they're not even married yet. She wonders why she agreed to leave her home and stay with him, and when all this will end, or when she'll fight back, or when—

_we'll live a perfect life_

Her thoughts are interrupted when he kicks her in the stomach. She can't tell if it's saliva or blood that comes out of her mouth. "Is it dead yet?" he asks, squeezing her face and tilting her head towards him. She doesn't want to look at him, look at the lips that once said they loved her—but he makes her, and tears flow down her cheek when her green eyes meet his blue ones. They look blue but she knows his eyes are black and evil.

_just you&me._

Before she knows it he's pulling on her face and he thrusts her to the floor. It's spattered with her blood and her spit and hot bile builds up in her throat.

She gingerly touches her stomach, and she really hopes her baby (_don't call my baby and "it"_) isn't dead, but then she kind of does because maybe he won't hit her as much then.

She covers her mouth and waits till she hears the front door close and lock again before she lets her sorrow and broken glass and blows to the face flow out of her mouth and on to the floor, and it's so disgusting. She wipes her mouth and tries to stand, but she can't, she curls up and she knows she's getting puke and blood and spit on herself, but she doesn't care. Nothing matters. Nothing matters to her as long as she's by Mistoffelees's side.

_forever&ever._

(She'd like it better though if he didn't hit her so much, y'know?)

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**a/n: **I kinda hate this. I didn't get my point across. :/

Oh well.

I'll write something happy to make up for these two… BUT. I kinda want to write another "unwanted pregnancy" thing… not for this collection though.

**Explanations:** At some point Mistoffelees convinced Electra to run away with him. After some time Electra became something of a prisoner and Mistoffelees started abusing her, etc. etc. etc. Oh and she got pregnant but he killed her unborn baby.

BY THE WAY. who wants to make a group project? diary fics for the queenkits. I would totally do electra. Interested? Say so in your review! 8D Then I'll explain everythin'.


	3. Yellow Frosting

**a/n: **'Kay. I'm back, like a boss.

…and I didn't listen to anyone.

I'M SUCH A JERK.

Why is it impossible for me to write happy things? I owe you guys some fluff. BTW Victoria's parents are mystery cats (meaning, OCs that have nothing to do with anything except for conceiving her) and she and Mistoffelees aren't siblings. This is written like the first chapter. I like this style…

Anyway. I need to explain some things. This is very AU. Jemima isn't Munkustrap and Demeter's child—in fact, the cats around that age are too young to have children (college age). So they're all, except for Victoria (and other unspecified kits I guess), Jellylorum or Jenny's kids.

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"_How lonely it is going to be now on the Yellow Brick Road."_

_-Ray Bolger_

When she's four, Victoria decides her daddy is going to be the man she'll marry. But he dies on her birthday, and she has no idea what's going on as they lower him into the ground. (_Why are they doing that? He's gonna wake up soon!_) And some time later her momma goes crazy or something, and she doesn't read Victoria bedtime stories anymore, or make her pancakes for breakfast on Saturdays, or go to her plays and Victoria wonders why momma keeps hitting herself.

They take her momma away, and Victoria decides it's a good time for a wish. But she decides it's okay, because she gets to stay with Munkustrap and the Tugger (even if it's just because Jellylorum and Jennyanydots are too busy with the others, and Grizabella's a lost case, and Bustopher's too flighty to take care of someone else, she's happy).

When she's five, Victoria decides she's going to marry Mistoffelees. She follows him around while little toms follow _her_ around, and it's like a little chain of kitten love. Victoria catches him in the sandbox on a gloomy Tuesday, and takes his little paws in her tinier ones, and ignores that his paws are dirty with sand. She makes sure she doesn't kick his sand castle and keeps dirt out from under her yellow painted nails (_mommy did them for me_). She kisses him on the cheek and his face turns bright red, and Victoria decides he's her tomfriend, though she's not really sure what one of those is. She just knows that it involves kisses on cheeks and holding paws and sharing pudding cups.

By the time they're in second grade, Mistoffelees and Victoria have forgotten that the white queen had decided they were dating (sitting next to each other in circle isn't really what one would call a date), because neither of them really knew what that was anyway, and they wouldn't know for a while.

Victoria's birthday falls on a Thursday, so she brings in store bought cupcakes with yellow frosting (_'cos Munkustrap an' Tugger tried to help me make cupcakes but we kinda blew up the oven_), but she starts crying before she passes them out to her classmates because she forgot her daddy died on this day too. Victoria starts to hate her birthday because now she's a big girl and she remembers things, so she asks Jellylorum if she can change her birthday to the sixth and not the fifth, but she just smiles sadly and wipes tears before they fall.

She cries out in the hallway with Etcetera, Jemima, and Electra (_you guys're like my angels_), and she sniffles and says it's okay, because she needs to pass out her birthday treat. (And two weeks later, Victoria pretends she's not jealous of Etcetera when she brings in her homemade sugar cookies with crooked pink and purple flowers on them, or when Plato tells Etcetera that the cookies are really good, and she blushes when she says _thank you_, and he blushes back.)

Victoria decides she's in third grade, not second, so when she's actually a third grader it feels funny. That year, she doesn't bring in a birthday treat, instead she's gone at her mom's funeral, and she cries so hard because her parents suck for choosing to die so close to her birthday (or actually _on _it. That's just assholery—she'd never say that though).

Victoria doesn't ask how her momma died (she didn't know she'd end up with the same disease) when she's in the car with the Tugger and Munkustrap on their way home, because the air if heavy enough as it is, and juice boxes can't wash away tears. (Even though it made her giggle that Munkustrap drank one too.)

They stop and get ice cream. They sit on a log in front of a lake, making a big scene when the Tugger decides he wants to try Victoria's lemon ice cream and won't give it back. In the end he loses the battle and Munkustrap thumps him on the head. When it starts to cool off, Munkustrap lets Victoria ride on his shoulders, and they walk around the lake, sometimes stopping to freak out over trash on the shore or to pet a nice lady's rat dog. When the log from before comes into view, the Tugger decides he's an airplane—"Not just _any _airplane," he says, "a fighter plane. Or something."

Munkustrap decides he's a plane, too, and through a series of strange events, the two toms end up in the lake, soaked. Victoria promptly lectures them about maturity, though she'd be a bit more convincing if she didn't keep giggling.

(They have to buy beach towels, because Munkustrap doesn't want his seats wet.)

/

When she's in sixth grade, Victoria realizes her innocent kitten life is over. Suddenly people are dating (_Do they even know what "love" is?_), and swearing, and getting held back. There are no more stories and Halloween parties, and circle is done in chairs, not on the floor.

Etcetera and Plato start dating, and no matter how much Victoria teases them, she knows she's jealous. She expects them to break up after a week, but when they've been together for a month, Victoria gives up. She knows she's pretty and plenty of toms have crushes on her, but she likes _Plato_. She'll stay loyal to Etcetera, though, because the tabby never did anything to hurt her, and she never told anyone she liked him.

Somehow it gets out that Victoria likes Plato, and the white queen wants nothing more than to wrinkle up and die. When she comes home from school with puffy, wet eyes, Munkustrap and the Tugger are _all up in her grill _trying to figure out what happened, and that immediately brightens up her day (_they're more like brothers than anything_). She tells them it's boy stuff—and the two older toms launch into a dual speech on how stupid and dumb guys are, and that she should _never ever have sex because she _will _get pregnant. And die. _(Victoria almost pees herself from laughing so hard at the Tugger's _Mean Girls _reference.)

She pretends that it's all fine and dandy at home, but at school Etcetera doesn't look her in the eyes, and the tabby and Plato don't hold hands when she's around. It's mortifying.

At lunch, Victoria cries in the bathroom and picks and her nail polish. (So later that day she gives her guardians/brothers/partners-in-crime manicures, and they don't even start picking the polish until a few days later.)

/

When she's in eighth grade, Victoria has no classes with Plato. Or Mistoffelees. Or Pouncival, or Tumblebrutus.

Etcetera has classes with each of them.

She wishes Etcetera wasn't becoming so pretty and popular, she wishes Etcetera and Plato didn't get back together after separating for seventh grade, wishes she wasn't the only one in her group of friends who didn't have a boyfriend (at some point).

When her birthday comes around that year, Victoria's glad she gets another wish.

(Not to mention she gets her period, and it's this whole hilarious thing, and Munkustrap forces the Tugger to buy pads with her.)

/

In high school, Victoria coughs up blood.

/

Victoria dies when she's seventeen. Her story is short, void of romance and fluffy little girl dresses (Munkustrap and the Rum Tum Tugger never really knew how to dress a little queen). She dies on the night of her birthday (like father like daughter). It's wrong and it's sad, and no one knows if they should keep celebrating her birthday or mourn her premature death.

All anyone knows is that it will take the Rum Tum Tugger and Munkustrap months to smile again.

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**a/n: **GOD NO I KILLED IT. Oh well. This was fun. I kinda like Tugger and Strap's parenting "skills…" I felt like Tugger would be more childish than Victoria. xD

…yeah. This wasn't very "yellow" at all.


End file.
